Bible is the cruelest monster
Jeff is sunshine, but nobody knows his dark side except the bible
Jeff is the one who beat the monster, he wins his heart
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Jeff sat in front of his laptop, staring at the blank screen. The email from Pong remained unopened, a symbol of the future he wasn't sure he was ready to face. It had been weeks since Mile had come over, worn out but insistent, cooking dinner like nothing had changed. He'd talked to Jeff about moving forward, suggesting that perhaps working again might help him heal.
"Pong's a good guy," Mile had said, setting down the plates. "He's been looking for a partner. You've always had an eye for fashion, Jeff. You could start your own line. He's ready to invest."
Jeff had barely responded, overwhelmed by the idea of returning to anything resembling normal life. He felt like a burden, the weight of his pain suffocating every part of him. His parents had already made it clear-his existence was a shame they couldn't accept, a stain on their perfect image. All he had left was Mile, and even that felt fragile.
Today, though, as he looked out of his apartment window, the city humming beneath him, something stirred inside him. Maybe, just maybe, Mile was right. Maybe taking this step could help him feel like himself again-or at least a version of himself he could live with.
With a deep breath, Jeff clicked on the email. Pong's words were professional, but there was warmth in the way he described the opportunity. It wasn't just about business-it was about rebuilding, about a fresh start.
"I'd love to meet and discuss how we can work together. Let's grab coffee sometime," Pong had written.
Jeff hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Finally, he typed out a short response, agreeing to meet. His heart raced as he hit send, but it was done. A step forward, however small.
---
A few days later, Jeff sat in a quiet café, nervously fidgeting with his cup of tea. He hadn't been out in public much since everything had happened, and the low hum of conversations around him felt overwhelming. But then Pong walked in, instantly putting him at ease with his bright smile and relaxed demeanor.
"Jeff, right?" Pong greeted, shaking his hand firmly. "It's great to finally meet you in person. Mile's told me a lot about you."
Jeff smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, it's nice to meet you too."
Pong didn't push. He could sense the hesitation, the walls Jeff had built around himself. Instead, he started talking about his work, the fashion industry, and his passion for design. Slowly, Jeff found himself relaxing, drawn into the conversation by Pong's enthusiasm.
"I've seen some of your sketches," Pong said, pulling out his phone to show Jeff a few photos Mile had sent him. "You've got real talent, Jeff. I think together, we can create something incredible. What do you think?"
Jeff stared at the screen, his mind racing. It had been so long since he'd even thought about fashion design. The idea of creating something again, of pouring himself into a project-it scared him, but it also excited him in a way he hadn't felt in ages.
"I... I think I'd like that," Jeff finally said, his voice soft but sincere.
Pong smiled, his eyes warm with understanding. "Good. We'll take it slow, no pressure. But I think this could be really good for you, Jeff."
For the first time in months, Jeff felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could start to move forward.
---
Over the next few weeks, Jeff and Pong worked closely together. Pong was patient, never pushing too hard, but always there with support and encouragement. He understood that Jeff was still healing, that some days were harder than others, but he never made Jeff feel like a burden.
One afternoon, as they sat in Pong's office discussing fabric samples, Jeff found himself opening up more than he had in a long time.
"You know," Jeff said quietly, "I didn't think I'd be able to do this again. After everything... I felt like I'd lost everything. But working on this project, it's been helping. It's giving me something to hold onto."
Pong nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I'm glad to hear that. Everyone needs something to hold onto, Jeff. And you're stronger than you think."
Jeff looked down at the swatches in his hand, the soft fabric grounding him. For the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe, just maybe, things could get better.
.
-
Weeks had passed since Jeff started working with Pong. His days were a quiet routine of healing, one gentle step at a time. Pong, his new business partner, was more than just someone who knew fashion-he was kind, understanding, and never pressed Jeff about the past. Their working relationship had slowly turned into a friendship, filled with quiet moments of support.
Jeff spent hours sketching and discussing designs with Pong. His passion for fashion was slowly returning, but some days were harder than others. When the weight of the past settled on his shoulders, Pong was always there to help him find his balance again.
"You've got a natural eye for this," Pong said one afternoon, watching Jeff review fabric samples. "Your designs are bold but also elegant. You just need to believe in them as much as I do."
Jeff gave him a small smile, but his heart still felt heavy. "I don't know if I can do this, Pong. Some days, it feels like too much."
Pong nodded, never pushing. "You're doing it, though. One step at a time. And I'm here, no rush. We'll get there together."
It was the way Pong said "together" that made Jeff feel safe. His soft, patient presence was exactly what Jeff needed. Pong didn't try to fix everything-he just stood by Jeff's side as he navigated his own path forward
That evening, Jeff returned to his apartment. He unlocked the door, feeling slightly lighter after another productive day. But as he stepped inside, something caught his eye. Lying on the floor, just inside the entrance, was a single red rose.
His chest tightened. He bent down, cautiously picking up the rose by the stem, careful to avoid the thorns. But as he held it, his fingers grazed a sharp edge, and he winced in pain. A small droplet of blood formed on his fingertip.
Jeff stared at the rose, confused. Then he noticed a note wrapped around one of the thorns, tied with a delicate thread. With his heart pounding, he carefully untied the note and unfolded it.
The words, written in neat, familiar handwriting, sent a shiver down his spine:
Love is a pain.
Jeff's hand shook as he read it again. The handwriting-it couldn't be mistaken. Bible.
His breath caught in his throat, and his mind whirled with questions. Why was Bible reaching out now? After all this time, after everything that had happened between them?
He dropped the rose on the counter and stood there, frozen. The note felt like a reminder, or maybe a warning-an echo of the love he had shared with Bible, the love that had brought both joy and heartache.
Jeff closed his eyes, trying to steady his thoughts. The rose, the note-Bible hadn't just left them by accident. He was still there, still in Jeff's life, lingering like a ghost from the past.
As Jeff stared at the rose, he couldn't help but feel the familiar pull of memories and emotions. Love, indeed, was a pain-a pain that had never fully healed.
